


Tourist

by seratonation



Series: Tourist [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e10 The Return Part 1, Episode: s03e10-e11 The Return, Ferris Wheels, Helicopters, Las Vegas, M/M, Road Trips, Santa Monica, The Grand Canyon, Tourism, area 51
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-23
Updated: 2007-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:20:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seratonation/pseuds/seratonation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last time they went down to Earth was unplanned and unwanted. They were basically forced out, and each of them was shoved under a mountain, where there was no ocean, no waves and the air smelled wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tourist

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback and con crit loved. This fic ate my brain, but it wouldn’t have made it this far without a lot of help. First and foremost, I want to thank my beta, domtheknight, she was beyond awesome, she was David Hewlett awesome. I might have built the body for this story, but she not only showed me where all the dents were, she also gave me the tools to hammer them out, no matter how stubborn the boys (and I) were. All remaining mistakes are mine. 
> 
> I also want to thank nunshavingfun and nakedwesleyfor answering my (slightly random) questions (they will all make sence once you read this I swear!) and also to my flist for putting up with my complaining about this story for so long (and not beating me up for it :P)
> 
> This story has been a long time coming, I hope you like it.

The first time they came to Earth had been great, until it wasn’t. When it had been good, John had gotten to see his friends again, Teyla got to experience shopping, Rodney got with the girl of his dreams, and Elizabeth got to have the meeting with the Simon she had always wanted. It wasn’t good when they thought they’re never going back. It had also been fake.

The second was a surprise. They had all been so busy getting new recruits and worrying that John might not go back that it had all gone by in a rush. Not everything went as planned; John had to pass on a message, Rodney went to Ontario only to fly back that same day, and Elizabeth had found out about the real Simon. They didn’t have enough time to dwell on the city they missed till it was time to go back and they were all squirming to get back to their tiny rooms and narrow beds. 

The third time Rodney went down alone. He didn’t stay long, but enough time to get a good beer, and to knock on a door that he had been afraid to approach the last time he was there. He talked to his sister, and started building a bridge he’d thought was gone forever. Jeanie had been hesitant too, but after some encouragement from John, she came to realise Rodney had never given up hope that maybe one day things would get better between them. By the time she went back to Earth, things were on their way to being resolved.

The last time was unplanned and unwanted. They were basically forced out, and each of them was shoved under a mountain, where there was no ocean, no waves and the air smelled wrong.

Sure, John saw Carson sometimes but he always looked tired and depressed. Elizabeth was always distant, and when he tried to talk to her she’d always rush off, sorry can’t talk right now. And Rodney, he doesn’t even see Rodney at all, just talks to him on the phone and he’s always complaining. “I hate it here,” he’d say, and John would think ‘join the club’ but never say it out loud because at least he still had links to Atlantis; Carson, Elizabeth and he can still go through the gate, which is more than Rodney had. There was no point in pressing the matter any more than necessary.

Still, he hated it here too, here in his boring office, here at the SGC with no proper team, here in Colorado, here on God damned Earth in the God damned Milky Way.

So after two weeks of throwing darts and punching bags he asked for leave.

“You’ve only been here two weeks, already tired of us, Colonel?” Landry joked, not knowing how close to the truth he really is.

“No, sir,” and he hated that most of all, going back to being an underling. He’d been worried that he wouldn’t know how to be a commanding officer, let alone like it, considering his loathing for all his own commanding officers, but he’d enjoyed it more than expected, and he’d been damned good at it, better than anyone on Earth thought he would be. And now he had to go around calling people sir. “It’s just been a while since I’ve been on Earth and thought I’d look around, see what’s changed, what hasn’t, I won’t be long, five days.”

“Very well, Colonel,” was the reply, “have fun, we’ll see you in five days, and maybe we’ll have a new team for you when you come back.”

“Thank you, sir.”

***

He’d bought a car his first week back; he had 3 years back pay that wasn’t going anywhere so he figured why not? It was a [black ’67 Stingray](http://pics.livejournal.com/sara86/pic/00011g2y/g14), almost new; a woman’s grandfather had died and she said she wouldn’t be able to do it justice. He promised he’d take good care of the car.

He left the SGC early. He packed enough for a few days, picked up a map at the nearest gas station and he drove.

He made it to Rawlins before he got hungry so he stopped, had some Chinese on the go and was on his way again, this time making it to Salt Lake City without stopping, but it was just past midnight and his eyes were getting heavy, so he stopped at the next motel with a vacancy and slept.

He woke up around 6 the next morning, feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all. The lumpy mattress had nothing to do with it though. He grabbed a quick bacon sandwich and apple juice for breakfast and drove for 6 hours straight, till he reached Area 51.

He parked his car by the entrance and got out to lean on the hood. Then he took out his phone and called Rodney.

“McKay,” barked Rodney, voice agitated.

“That’s no way to greet your boyfriend,” John told him.

“That’s funny; it’s kind of early to be calling though, isn’t it?” They had a standing 7 pm calling time.

“Well I guess I just wanted to see what you were doing.” There was a weird humming sound in the background, like a giant generator.

“I’m working- No! Don’t touch that! I swear they get dumber by the day.”

“Maybe you should step outside for a while,” he suggested.

“Why would I do that?” he could almost hear the eye roll.

“Fresh air’d do you good,” he said. The sun was blazing, but the air wasn’t so much fresh as dry and acrid, and so still, the sand spreading out in all directions as far as the eye could see. It reminded him too much of the planet with the lone Wraith. No wonder Rodney was going crazy here.

“Right and come back to find my lab completely destroyed, I don’t think so,” Rodney said, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Come on, just for a couple of minutes? Trust me.”

“Oh alright, I’m on my way outside now, but if something happens while I’m out there I’m…” his voice trailed off as he came in to view, small against the huge building behind him. “John?”

“Nice to see you too,” he said into his phone, even though if either of them took a few steps forward they would be within hearing distance.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, still not moving, still on the phone.

“I thought I’d come visit.”

“But we’re in the middle of nowhere!” And even from here he could see Rodney’s arm wave, taking in the endless desert.

He shrugged, and finally Rodney moved forward until they were standing two feet away from each other. Only then did he switch off his phone. John followed suit.

“Hi,” Rodney said.

“Hey,” he replied, “so, I’ve taken a few days off, thought we could go on a road trip or something.”

“I can’t leave; it’s only been two weeks.”

“Rodney, I’m sure they’ll survive for a few days without you.”

To his surprise, Rodney sighed. “Yeah, me too, I miss having to be needed on a daily basis, you know? To save the day.”

John nodded. “I miss having a team.”

“You do have a team, back in Colorado,” Rodney said sounding bitter, “and you get to go through the gate.”

“To accompany a botanist, as if a flower could attack someone,” then he reconsidered, “but knowing my luck I probably _will_ get attacked by flowers or something.” Rodney gave a small smile, probably remembering the many times they got attacked by the most unlikely things. “Besides,” he continued, “they’re not _my_ team, my team was forced to disband and now half live in the wrong freaking galaxy.”

Rodney laughed and hugged him, in the middle of the desert, where there was no one to see.

“I miss you too,” he said, then he let him go. “Come on, I’ll just get my stuff, put the person least likely to blow up the place in charge and then we can go to my apartment to pack and maybe have lunch.”

“Cool,” he said and they went in to the cool shade cast buy the building.

The place was a lot like Cheyenne; grey walls, people walking around looking busy, and machinery humming in the distance, the only difference was that it wasn’t as closed in and claustrophobic here. Rodney seemed to know his way around and soon they reached an office. He knew it was Rodney’s office on sight; there were papers on the desk in almost neat piles around the two computers, there were books and journals in more piles on the ground, merging in to each other, and dispersed through them the odd coffee cup, old plate or unidentified thingamabob. Rodney was probably the only one who knew where everything was.

Rodney bustled around, collecting papers and closing his computers, while John hovered by the door.

John noticed a calendar on the wall, just out of site, hidden next to a tall leafy green plant in a pot. The picture of the month was of some galaxy and there were 13 days marked off, in big red crosses.

Rodney caught John looking and he blushed.

“Just- the days I survived,” he said with a nervous laugh, moving to take it down, but John stopped him.

“It’s alright,” he said, “it’s good.”

“Jeanie doesn’t think so,” Rodney said, his lips quirking up, but he didn’t try to take it down again.

“You’re not bringing work with you, are you?” John asked trying to change the conversation. It was uncanny how this office reminded him of Elizabeth’s office in Atlantis, even though they looked nothing alike.

“No, no, just some personal projects I’m working on,” he said, “don’t want that creepy German guy stealing my ideas. Hey, how long will we be gone?”

He shrugged. “Four, five days.”

Rodney nodded and pressed a button on what looked like an intercom on his desk.

“Pearce, to my office please,” he said into it, and a couple of minutes later a youngish looking guy came in, dark hair, heavy rimmed glasses hiding dark round eyes.

“You called?” he said, he looked nervous, as if expecting Rodney to yell at him.

“Yes,” Rodney said, “I’m taking a few days off; I need you to look after things while I’m gone.”

“Me?”

“Yes, think you can handle it?” Rodney said, all business like.

“Yes, sir.”

“Look, I told you, don’t call me sir,” Rodney said rolling his eyes, “It’s Doctor McKay, or just Doctor, alright?”

“Yes, si- Dr. McKay.”

The kid turned around and saw John standing in the corner watching them with amusement.

“Lt. Colonel Sheppard?”

“That’s me,” he said, giving an easy grin.

The kid’s eyes brightened, holding out a hand. “I’ve read some of your reports from Atlantis. It’s an honour to meet you.”

“Oh, uh thanks,” he said as his hand was vigorously shaken, he really didn’t want to be thinking about Atlantis, he still got a pang in his chest every time he thought about it.

“I thought you and Dr. McKay made a great team, it’s a shame they had to split you up like that-“

“Pearce,” Rodney interrupted, raising his eyebrows and giving him the notorious hurry up twirl.

“Sorry Dr. McKay,” he said and hurried out.

“Great,” Rodney said once he was gone, “they admire you and they fear me.”

“Rodney McKay, instilling fear in his minions since 1992,” John said smirking, willing the goosebumps that had erupted on his arms at the mention of Atlantis to disappear.

“It’s for their own good,” Rodney said, “now let’s go, I’m starving.”

He picked up his bag and they left, only stopping so Rodney could tell his boss that he was leaving.

After a short conversation in the parking lot (“You drive a [Nissan Bluebird](http://pics.livejournal.com/sara86/pic/0000fsgf/g14)?” “Yes, stop laughing; they happen to be very efficient.”) they agreed that Rodney would drive and John would follow.

Rodney’s apartment wasn’t too different then what he had now, although his was just temporary and Rodney’s looked like he was already settled in. There were even Cheetos in the couch.

“You look like you’ve settled in,” he commented, as Rodney moved in to the kitchen. He didn’t know why it bothered him that Rodney’s place looked like he was going to live here forever and his own place still looked like he moved in yesterday.

“Oh,” Rodney said, surprised, looking around, “no, I just can’t sleep, so I just move around a lot, you know, work, TV, eat; the usual.”

“Hmm,” John said and really that did make him happier; not that Rodney couldn’t sleep, because a sleep deprived Rodney was scary, but that he wasn’t the only one not sleeping well, not the only one who was finding it hard to adjust.

“So, I’ve got burgers,” Rodney said, head in the freezer; he pulled them out and handed them to John before turning back to the fridge, “and bread.” He took out the items as he listed them, “Tomatoes, ketchup, mustard, and questionable lettuce.” He held the yellow and brown vegetable up for John to see, who was already washing the tomatoes. He crinkled his nose and shook his head. “No lettuce,” Rodney said, throwing it away.

He then moved to the pantry. “Got pickles,” he said taking them out.

“That should be good,” John said, taking out a knife and looking around.

“There’s a cutting board in…” Rodney looked around, finger ready to point, then he frowned, “I don’t know.”

“Haven’t you had this place for 5 years?”

“I haven’t lived in it for the past 3, just poke around, I’m sure you’ll find it.”

John rolled his eyes and set down the tomatoes and knife and had a look around while Rodney started frying the burgers.

He found it in one of the lower cupboards, which were all pretty empty; a couple of pots, a couple of pans, a rice cooker (he’d snickered at that one) and the dicing board.

He took it out and washed it, just in case, and sliced the tomatoes and a couple of pickles and by then the burgers were finished. They made the burgers in comfortable silence, the kitchen was small and they used this to brush against each other in passing or let their fingers touch when handing over the sauce or a dish and their eyes would meet but John would look away.

He knew coming here, doing everything he wanted, might blow up in his face if he wasn’t careful, not to mention that things on Atlantis were different. Maybe he was just imagining it all, all the touches and glances, what if Rodney didn’t feel the same way anymore? What if this was a mistake?

But Rodney’s mind was on other things. “So how are you settling in? In Colorado?”

“Fine,” he said.

“It’s weird getting used to so much space again. No more feet hanging off the edge of the bed.”

“I guess.”

Rodney narrowed his eyes. “Are you OK? Talking about this?”

“I’m just- I need more time,” John conceded, “I’m still getting used to the idea, you know?”

Rodney nodded, and the chains around John’s heart relaxed a little. The truth is, he just didn’t want to think about it.

They ate quickly and Rodney moved to the bedroom, John close behind. There was a tabby cat napping on the bed and a closet in the opposite corner.

“Hey, Tiro,” Rodney said affectionately to the cat, which purred as he stroked behind his ears, then he moved to the closet, took out a duffel bag and stopped.

“Right,” he told John, “where are we going?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he said sitting on the bed next to Tiro, also stroking his ears, “it’s a surprise.”

“How am I supposed to know how to pack?”

“Well, it’s summer, so I’d go for summer clothes,” John said.

Rodney rolled his eyes, the way that said ‘duh.’

“But,” John continued, “a bathing suit might be a good idea, and something semi-formal.”

Rodney smiled in to his closet, packed extra clothes, and threw in his sunscreen and some CDs he’d grabbed from the car earlier.

He turned around to find John lying on the bed, parallel to the pillows, his feet still touching the ground and his head in the crook of his elbow, his other hand petting Tiro, who was purring unashamedly.

“Oh my God, you must have a super power or something; I bet dogs roll over and beg after just looking at you.”

John sat up, his hand missing the warmth from the cat’s fur. “I can’t help it if I’m so charming.”

“Please,” Rodney said, rolling his eyes, “come on Tiro.”

The cat gave a small meow of protest as he was picked up. Rodney held him close to his chest. “Bring my bag, will you?” he said over his shoulder to John.

“Yes, master,” John muttered but picked it up and followed, listening as Rodney assured Tiro.

“I’m going off for a while, but I promise I’ll be back in a few days this time.”

“Meow.”

“I know, I know, but you’ll have to stay with the neighbour again, only till I come back.”

“Meow.”

“I’m sure she’ll take good care of you, come here.” He brought him up to his cheek and it purred.

The neighbour was more than willing to look after Tiro, (“Hey there, is Rodney leaving you again? You poor baby.” “It’s only for a few days, I _will_ be back.” “Meow.”)

They were back on the road by 2, and they headed south.

When Rodney saw the signs he thought he’d figured it out.

“Las Vegas!” he said, “You’re taking me to Vegas?”

“We’re just gonna pass through, we’ll go down for a couple of hours, have some fun,” he grinned wickedly, “and then we’ll keep going.”

“Going where?”

“You’ll see.”

That was after they stopped the first time. They stopped three more times, each time getting snacks, or magazines and on one occasion, a crossword book, and they passed the time going through all of these things. Rodney would either read out the hints in the book (“what’s a five letter word for Australian cuddly? Australian cuddly? Who comes up with these things?” “Koala.” “What?” “Five letter word, Koala.”) or reading the articles in the Time magazine out loud (with Rodney’s side bar commentary) the whole time eating chips or nut mix or cookies.

They reached Las Vegas at around six. It was busy and full of people, everyone looked like they had somewhere to go, from single people in suites to groups of girls in elaborate costumes involving feathers, and at one point he was sure he saw someone dressed in a Star Trek suite. John was beginning to have doubts but Rodney was looking bright eyed and excited so he decided to go ahead with the plan.

He put on his sunglasses, even though the sun was already low on the horizon, and he drove up to the Mirage Resort.

“Listen, whatever I say, just go with it, ok?” he told Rodney, then he stepped out of the car, grabbing his bag from the back seat.

A teenage kid in a uniform came forward and John passed him the keys. “You be nice to her ok?” he told the kid and swaggered in to the foyer, nodding to the door man on his way through.

The girl at the reception was filing her nails when they walked in. “Can I help you?” she asked dispassionately. She was bleach blond, but her dark roots were showing, her heavy lidded eyes dark, and she was chewing bubble gum. John had the feeling that she might have stepped out of a cliché but he couldn’t be sure.

“Yeah, I’d like a locker please,” he said, trying to stay pleasant.

“Sorry, they are all booked,” she said without even checking, turning back to her nails.

He raised an eyebrow at her from behind his sunglasses.

“All of them?”

“Mmhm,” she said.

“Do you know who we are?” he asked, his tone never changed, still calm and casual, he even leaned on the front desk.

She gave him an expectant look.

“Well, I’m Jack O’Neill and this is Daniel Jackson, we’re here representing U2, you know the band U2, right?”

Her eyes widened as she nodded.

“They were thinking of filming there next video clip here, but if we can’t even get a locker for a couple of hours…” and he was starting to stand straight, half turning away.

“No, no,” she suddenly interrupted, standing up, “I’m sure we can sort something out.” Her whole demeanour changed to bright eyed and Happy To Help. “I’ll just get my manager.”

“That’ll be great,” and as she walked off, he turned and smirked at Rodney. “Easy as Pi.”

“You are such a dork,” Rodney told him, rolling his eyes.

John grinned at him, but before he could reply the girl returned with a man in a red suit jacket and slicked back hair that curled out at the base of his neck.

“Mr. O’Neill, Mr. Jackson—”

“It’s doctor,” Rodney said before he could stop himself, “I have several PhD’s. I am the best money could buy.”

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Jackson, we apologize for any inconvenience,” he shot a glare at the girl, who blushed, “we have a locker waiting for you, this way please.” He led them past the casino with all the noise emitting from it to a room off to the side. It was filled with row upon row of lockers on either side,

“You’re number 720,” he told them, leading them to the end of the centre aisle then turning left.

“Cool, my lucky number,” John said as the manager handed him the key.

“Enjoy your stay,” he said, “and if you need anything at all, just ask for me, Mark Jones.”

“Will do, thanks Mark,” John said smiling at him, before he left.

“Well, well, _Dr._ Jackson,” John said to Rodney once Mark was out of earshot, “I didn’t know you cared about his reputation that much.”

“I don’t,” Rodney said, “I care about mine, and I haven’t been a Mr. anything for 15 years and I’m not about to start now.” He paused. “Oh my God, I just said 15 years, I am an old man.” He banged the side of his head on the locker next to theirs, making the lock rattle.

“You’re not old,” John said, touching Rodney’s face without thinking.

For a moment neither of them moved, then John cleared his throat and pulled back, busying himself with opening the locker door.

“I think we should hit the casino first,” he said, trying to get back on track; he didn’t want to force Rodney into anything he didn’t want to do, “no betting, we’ll just stake out the tables, then we could have dinner, then we’ll hit the tables.”

Rodney, who hadn’t moved when John had, only frowned. “Sure.”

So they went back up to the casino and watched the tables for a while. They would whisper to each other what they thought the next move should be and, more often than not, get it right. The moved from table to table, Rodney would rely on statistical probability for Roulette, and John would count cards for Poker. None of the people were paying them much attention though. There was too much bustle, and it was strange seeing all these different people in one place in contrast to Poker night on Atlantis were it was always only a handful of the night owls playing with popcorn, talking and joking quietly. All that seemed irrelevant now.

Here though, noise was everywhere, the trickle of coins, the yells of people winning and the dings of machines filled the air. There were groups of Japanese tourists that would flow from game to game, quite a few young people who would stay put on one table, keeping quiet and focused, caps low on their faces, several parties that were at different levels of drunk, and a handful of little old ladies at the slot machines. Dotted between all the players were people in uniforms; guards, waitresses or dealers. It was almost overwhelming.

When they were satisfied that they knew everything they needed to know about all the tables and all the possible opponents they went to dinner at a restaurant just outside the resort that had a view of the [Bellagio Fountain](http://pics.livejournal.com/sara86/pic/0000ezzw/g14). Then they went back to hit the tables. Rodney watched in amusement as John won almost every game he played; Poker, Black Jack, Roulette, you name it, he won it.

As John got off the 3rd Black Jack table with about 5 times the chips he started with, Rodney stopped him.

“How are you doing that?” he asked him; he’d been watching over John's shoulder, one of the many that had crowded around to watch the man with crazy hair and sunglasses win game after game.

“Pi, remember?” John smirked and everything seemed to dim off into the background, and before Rodney knew what he was doing he kissed John, right there in the middle of the casino.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling back, horrified, and now John was the one who was speechless, because he only shook his head. On the other side of the casino a man in a white suit was asking for a little less conversation, a little more action, please, but Rodney thought a little conversation wouldn’t be such a bad thing, because he knew John was trying to hold back, and Rodney wasn’t sure why.

“Come on,” John said, grabbing his hand. They cashed the chips and John led him back to the lockers, before he pushed Rodney against the wall opposite their locker and kissed him intensely.

“God, I missed you so much,” he whispered against Rodney’s lips. Rodney slipped off the sunglasses and let them fall to the floor, then took John’s face in his hands and kissed him again, thinking finally, finally something clear.

They were grinding against each other and Rodney could feel John’s hard cock rubbing against his own through their clothes and there were too many layers, but John’s hand was sliding into his pants.

“What if– what if someone walks in?” he said, although there was no stopping him now.

“They won’t,” John assured him, though Rodney knew he had no way of being sure, but he couldn’t push the point because his cock was in John’s hand, being pulled out. Then John’s hand left him and he was rubbing against denim, he let out a slight whimper, but then John’s cock was against his own, and John’s hand holding them together, stroking them, his other arm around Rodney’s neck pulling him closer, pushing him against the wall. Rodney’s own hands were on John’s shoulders, his lips roaming, tasting skin and salt.

“I thought– I thought–” Rodney tried to say everything he had thought, everything he’d wondered, about John and Earth and new teams but he couldn’t formulate the words, couldn’t get it across but John understood.

“No,” he said over and over, “No, no, no,” and he came with the word on his lips.

His softening dick slipped out of his hand. He stroked Rodney’s now slick cock, once, twice, his orgasm building and he was coming too, biting John’s neck to stifle the sound, although a soft whimper still escaped.

Rodney leaned his head back against the wall and after a while he spoke. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” John agreed. After a while more he pushed himself slowly off of Rodney. Miraculously, his clothes were still clean. Rodney hadn’t been so lucky.

He slipped out of the stained shirt and used it to clean them up, then he opened the locker to get a new one. When he was done, John’s sunglasses were back in place and there was a rising welt on the side of his neck.

“Oops,” Rodney said, pointing at John’s neck.

“What?” he asked even as he raised a hand to rub a finger across it and he smiled and shrugged. “We’re on vacation,” he said simply, “but we better get going if we want to get to our destination before midnight.”

“Where’s that?” Rodney asked, almost casually.

“Surprise,” John said, waggling his eyebrows.

When they got back to the reception the girl was still there.

“Hey,” he grinned at her, holding out the key.

She took it from him. “I hope your stay was enjoyable,” she said taking in Rodney’s changed shirt and the hickey on John’s neck, he could see her adding 2 and 2 together.

“Oh, it was,” he said, giving her a wink, and Rodney saw her eyes widen.

John paid with the cash they had won in the casino and walked out.

“Thanks,” he told the kid that got his car, tipped him and they were back on the road, driving down the Strip, with the lights so bright there were no stars in the sky.

But by the time they were out on the open road again it was too dark to do any of the things they were doing before so they contented themselves with a game of Prime/Not Prime with a bootleg CD in the background.

After they ran out of numbers, Rodney dozed. He surfaced once and heard John mumbling along with the radio.

_“… then you really might know what it’s like to have to lose,”_

But he was so tired, was it only this morning that he woke up at Area 51 with nothing more on his mind than the simulations he had to run? He sighed and just went back to sleep again.

The music seemed to mingle and merge in one soothing song, soundtrack to his dreams. Then John’s hand was on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake.

“Rodney,” he whispered, “Wake up, we’re here.”

He slowly came awake, with John leaning towards him, a dim white light from outside making a halo around him, and the sound of waves nearby, but he couldn’t be sure if they were real or just remnants of his own dreams.

When he assured John that he was awake with an impatient wave of his hand, John got out and grabbed both of their bags. Rodney got out as well, placing his hands on his lower back and stretching his spine, hearing the segments crackle back into place. He looked around at the half filled parking lot, across at the empty street, and past that there was sand and the open sea.

“Where are we?” he asked John as they were walking towards the high building that had been giving off the light.

“Santa Monica,” John said and they were walking in to the brilliantly lit lobby towards the reception desk.

“Hi, how can I help you?” the receptionist said, far too brightly for the late hour. Rodney caught a glimpse at the intricate clock behind her. 1 am. He closed his eyes and sighed, he wanted to sleep, but that wasn’t normal was it? Wasn’t he the night owl?

“I’d like a room please,” John told her, “Queen.”

“Of course,” she said without missing a beat, “how long would you like to stay?”

“Tonight and tomorrow night,” he said. He paid with his credit card and as he was getting the key Rodney leaned into him, still sleep fuzzed.

“Hey, you ok buddy?” John asked him, putting an arm around him to steady him.

“Mm,” Rodney said, “just tired.”

John smiled his thanks to the receptionist and led Rodney to the elevator. Once they were in the room, Rodney slowly stripped to his boxers and T-shirt, leaving a trail of clothes to the bed, and slipped in. The covers were soft but there was a something missing.

He heard the window open in the dark, letting in the sounds of the waves outside and soon after, John slid in next to him. He put an arm and a leg around him and nuzzled his neck.

“The ocean,” he mumbled into John’s neck.

“Yeah,” John replied, sounding just as tired.

“Love you,” he muttered.

“Love you too.” And soon John felt Rodney’s breathing ease in to sleep and he followed after, in Rodney’s arms and the sound of waves washing over them both.

***

The next morning Rodney woke up alone in bed and for a moment he didn’t know where he was. He looked around the vast room, with its cream coloured walls, and white flowing curtains, letting in a breeze and the sound of unfamiliar waves. The bed was a four-poster with dark mahogany and white sheets that were almost cloud like. He heard a door open and close and then John come in to the room and he had coffee. Rodney sat up and smiled at him. John grinned back.

“Just because I have coffee,” John said sitting down next to him, handing him a cup.

“Mmm,” he agreed, too busy taking the first customary sip and sigh, then he looked at John, “So. Santa Monica.”

“Yeah,” John grinned, but didn’t elaborate.

“What do you have planned for today?” Rodney prompted.

And John’s grin got more devious; a glint in his eye told Rodney all he needed to know. He held up a finger.

“Whatever it is, I’m not going to do it.”

“I didn’t say anything yet,” John almost whined.

“Alright, let’s hear it,” Rodney allowed.

“I’m gonna teach you to surf!”

“No way.”

That became his slogan all through the honest-to-God real bacon and egg breakfast, and on the way down to the beach and as John hired the 2 surf boards and then while John stuck one up right in the sand and one flat on the sand.

“No,” he said, “I’m not going to.” He crossed his arms.

“Come on, Rodney” John said.

“I’ll look ridiculous,”

“Look,” John pointed, “They’re doing it.”

“Yes, because he’s the hot instructor and she’s the flirty blond. I will not be your flirty blond.”

“I’m not asking you to– wait, you think he’s hot?” he narrowed his eyes.

“That’s not the point, John.”

“Right, come on please?” he stepped over the board and closer to Rodney, encircling his wrist and pulling him closer, but when he moved in for the kiss Rodney pulled back a little to look at John’s face.

“What are you doing?” Rodney asked, voice low.

John raised an eyebrow. “Trying to convince you?”

“But,” Rodney waved his free hand, “there’s people.”

“And we’re just a couple of tourists.”

Rodney hesitated for a moment then relaxed against him. “In that case,” he said, “where were we?”

“Right here.” And John kissed him, soft and innocent. “Please?”

“Well, alright,” Rodney sighed and he let John lead him on to the board.

“You know you’ll have to take off the shirt once you go in right?”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’ll mess up your balance.”

“But I’ll get sunburnt.”

“You have sunscreen SPF3000 or something, don’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me naked,” Rodney said, slipping out of the shirt.

The glint was back in John’s eye. “It’s working isn’t it?”

Rodney threw the shirt at him. John laughed and put the shirt with the rest of their stuff, and he set about correcting Rodney’s posture.

“It’s really simple,” he said, “basically you have to keep your balance.” He adjusted an arm here and pushed a foot there, his hands running over Rodney’s skin and that was the best part of it all, because Rodney was his out here for everyone to see and no one to know. Rodney was his and he was Rodney’s.

“You have to relax,” he said exasperated.

“I _am_ relaxed.”

He suddenly got an idea. He turned Rodney’s face towards him and kissed him again, more thoroughly this time, licking the inside of Rodney’s lower lip, till he felt Rodney’s muscles loosen.

When he pulled back Rodney just blinked at him. “What was that for?”

“Now you’re relaxed.”

“Hey!” Rodney said and tried to smack John’s arm half heartedly, but John just laughed and stepped out of the way.

“Besides I think you got it, now I’ll show you how to get up,” he said, still out of Rodney’s reach. “It’s basic physics, you lie down on your stomach, you put your hands here, and when you feel the momentum is enough to carry you, you push yourself up off the board and put your feet under you. Here watch me.”

He made sure Rodney was watching and demonstrated, feeling his knees strain as he tried to move fast, to carry his weight and then to semi-stand on the board.

“There is no way I’ll be able to do that,” Rodney said, dubiously, “It’s not physics, it’s just physical.”

“You’re more limber then you think,” John said, “just give it a try, ok?”

“I think I might need a bit more convincing,” Rodney said, looking at John through his lashes.

John gave a huff of laughter. “Sure,” he said, stepping forward and taking Rodney’s face in his hands to kiss him again, with only a hint of tongue this time.

“Well,” Rodney smirked, “if you insist.”

He lay down like John had instructed. He pushed himself up then tried to get his feet under him.

The first time didn’t work; he ended up on one knee and one foot, the second time he got both feet flat but they were too far away from where they were supposed to be. The third time he got a little closer but still not enough to stand.

“Rodney, Rodney wait,” John stopped him after watching closely. “Ok, try to push with the balls of your feet, not your toes, so you can get enough thrust and you have to move in one smooth movement, not two. The moment you feel your feet on the board stand up instantly, don’t hesitate. Ok. Try again.”

“No, I think I’ll just lie here,” Rodney said, his cheek resting on the board.

“Rodney,” John whined.

“If you don’t remember, I got shot in the ass not too long ago, with an arrow.”

“It’s all better now, I know, and if you don’t get up then tonight will be a lot less fun than it could be.”

“So I push up?”

John smiled. “And forward with the balls of your feet.”

He got it to work 2 times out of the next five.

“Ok,” Rodney said after standing the third time, “I think I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” John asked him doubtfully.

“Yeah, I think I’ll get the hang of it once I’m in the water.”

Two hours later, after Rodney convinced John that he didn’t need a babysitter and John should just go off and ‘do his own thing’, John found Rodney lying in the shallows, his board beached behind him, and the water lapping at his legs and stomach, eyes closed, looking completely relaxed.

John beached his board next to Rodney’s and came to lie down next to him, their shoulders and arms touching.

“Thought I lost you for a minute,” John said.

“‘m still here,” Rodney said, not opening his eyes.

“You know you’ll get burnt like this.”

“My sunscreen is water proof.”

“How many times did you stand up after you went off on your own?”

“Once and a half.”

John laughed. “What’s a half?”

“I got up, stood up then overbalanced.” Even lying down, Rodney’s hands couldn’t be still, he gestured with his arm, getting up then belly flopping by the looks of it.

“My toes hurt” Rodney said after a while.

“I told you to push with–”

“The balls of my feet, I know I know, but I just found out that my feet don’t bend that way.”

He laughed again and turned, swinging a leg over Rodney so that he was straddling him. Rodney opened his eyes, shielding his face from the sun with a hand.

“Do you know what will make it better?” John asked with that devilish grin, grinding down in to Rodney’s crotch.

“No!” Rodney said, eyes widening, “We can’t, not here! There’s kids!” he waved his hand vaguely behind him.

John pouted.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“No one’ll have to know,” John almost whined.

“How can they not know? I think it’ll be obvious.”

John’s pout deepened and his eyes got big and round.

“The puppy-eyed look doesn’t work on me,” Rodney said smugly, “I’m a cat person.”

John gave a huff of laughter and shook his head.

“Come on,” Rodney said consolingly, patting John’s thigh, “I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Alright,” John said slightly cheered up. He got off Rodney and held out a hand, helping him up.

They retrieved their boards and got hot dogs and shakes and ate them under the umbrellas just outside the shop, with the grass under their bare feet and the seemingly endless water lapping at the golden shore below them.

Afterwards they had ice cream and walked down [Third Street Promenade](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Third_Street_Promenade) with cones in hand, in nothing but their dry swim-shorts, t-shirts and flip-flops.

John slid a hand around Rodney’s neck and kissed his temple, his hand running down his arm, past the fabric of the shirt and touching skin.

“Don’t give me kisses; I want to taste your ice cream,” Rodney said and John laughed, he passed his cone over, intending for Rodney to take it, instead Rodney curled his hand around John’s, his other hand holding his own ice cream to the side, and he licked John’s cone.

When their ice creams were long gone, they passed a photo booth, the kind that you could take passport sized photos with.

“Let’s take some,” John said, stopping by it.

“Some what?” Rodney asked, not looking at it, distracted by the comic book stand across the street.

John rolled his eyes and with the hand that was intertwined with Rodney’s he turned him so that they were facing the curtain that acted as a door.

“Some pictures.”

“Why?” Rodney asked, incredulous.

John blinked at him. He couldn’t tell Rodney that he wasn’t sure when the next time he’ll be able to meet him again was, after they each got back to their respective mountains. He couldn’t tell him he’d miss him.

“To complete the Santa Monica experience,” he said instead, pulling Rodney into the cool booth without waiting for an answer.

The first flash caught them by surprise, John was caught laughing at Rodney’s indignation, the next one caught them kissing, with John’s hand fisted in Rodney’s shirt, the third had John smirking at Rodney who had a happy smile and slightly glazed eyes, and the last captured them cheek to cheek and smiling at the camera.

“See, that wasn’t too bad,” John said, when they walked out and stood waiting for the photos to process, two copies of the 4 pictures.

It didn’t take long and John watched for Rodney’s reaction, but Rodney didn’t say anything, he had this soft look on his face that John couldn’t decipher, then it was gone, and Rodney smiled.

“Not too bad at all,” he said, “you look fine too.”

John laughed and this was good too, being able to laugh and not worry about the next time they might have to run for their lives.

Their next stop was the Santa Monica Pier. The Ferris wheel was definitely for him. As they slowly climbed up John could feel the exhilaration building in his chest, it had been more than three years since he’s been on a Ferris wheel, and not even a puddle jumper could replace that feeling of being high above the ground, almost, but not quite defying gravity.

The wind was loud at the top, rushing in his ears, he looked over at Rodney, expecting an eye roll at his expense but Rodney was quiet, looking at the distance, the expanse of beach in front of them.

“What a view,” he said, moving close to John so he can hear him.

John’s huge grin was his only reply and he could see that Rodney was enjoying this as much as he was.

He bit his lip, wondering at Rodney’s reaction if he did what he wanted to do at this very moment. He decided it was worth finding out and he brought up his hand, gently cupping Rodney’s face, turning it to face him and he kissed him, not removing his hand.

When they came up for breath, he could feel Rodney’s smile on his lips, so he pulled back to look him in the eye.

“I bet you do this with all the girls,” Rodney said, the smile teasing, his eyes bright.

“No,” John replied, “Just the boys.”

Rodney opened his mouth to reply, but the carriage suddenly lurched, and they started to descend.

When they stopped again, John brought Rodney to him again. “Just you,” he whispered against his lips, and the only reply was Rodney’s smile before he kissed him again.

By the time they reached the bottom the sun had started to move towards the horizon, so they went back to the hotel to change for dinner. They had found a little restaurant on the beach with tables on the sand and had booked a table.

They showered separately and when John came out with only a towel around his waist, looking for the clothes he’d put out, Rodney reached out a hand and ruffled his wet hair.

John looked at him, his expression asking for him.

Rodney shrugged. “It went flat.”

John’s lips quirked up, but Rodney had turned to his own clothes, having spent the last five minutes trying to decide what to wear, not that he was ever telling John that, so John went back into the bathroom to shave.

“You know, I just realised something,” Rodney said after a while, standing in front of the mirror, doing up his shirt.

“Yeah?” John asked from the bathroom, “What’s that?”

“This is our first official date,” Rodney said, now frowning at the mirror as he ran a brush through his fine hair, trying to redistribute it.

There was a pause from the bathroom. “I guess it is,” John said, coming out of the bathroom, looking dashing in dark jeans and a black shirt, his hair standing out in all the right directions. “So, do you want me to get you flowers? Chocolate?” he smirked.

Rodney opened his mouth then closed it again, frowning. “Why do I have to be the girl?”

John’s smirk got more defined and Rodney held up a finger to stop him. “Don’t answer that.”

“Aw, come on Rodney,” he said moving forward, smiling fondly now. “You know I’ll always get you whatever you want.” He held Rodney’s elbow in his hand and gave him a soft peck on the lips.

“Don’t give me that,” Rodney said, “I’ll have you know I’m not easy. I don’t put out on the first date, unless I really like you.”

“I guess I’ll just have to try extra hard then,” John said, leading him towards the door.

The restaurant they had made reservations at was only five minutes’ walk from the hotel, and they made it in time to see the sun disappear behind the ocean. By the time they ordered, the first stars were coming out.

There was a woman singing on the stage and Rodney watched John watch her; she had a really good voice, soft and almost eerie and [her dark features](http://pics.livejournal.com/sara86/pic/0000709x/g14) didn’t go unnoticed either. Rodney felt a burst of jealousy, because John was captivated.

“She’s pretty hot,” he commented almost casually, “she reminds me of-”

“No.” John interrupted, voice hard, turning away from her as if it wasn’t decent to be looking at her.

“What?” Rodney stopped.

“She doesn’t look like anyone.” John wouldn’t even look him in the eye, his face contradicting his words.

“Look, I’m far from being the best people person, I’m probably not the best person on emotions, but I do know that you have to talk about them sometime.”

“I know,” John whispered, leaning forward, “but does it have to be here? Tonight?”

“If not now then when?”

“I don’t know,” he said, withdrawing, “soon, later, just- not now.”

Rodney swallowed and nodded. “OK.”

They listened for a while more and Rodney picked up the last two lines.

_I only want you to be mine  
I only want you to be free_

“Thank you,” she said once the last notes died, “I’m Bic Runga and that was one of my own, it’s called birds and it’s from my new album of the same name, which you could buy off that nice man over there, wave hi Ben.” She pointed at a guy sitting behind a table laden with CDs. “And now, for an oldie but a goody.”

Rodney recognised the first bars of Linger from the Cranberries. She really did have a beautiful voice.

When their meals arrived it was full dark and a waiter went around lighting the torches distributed around the edges of the restaurant and the candles on the tables.

They talked about work things mostly, John told Rodney about Carson and Elizabeth, about SG-1 and his team or lack thereof.

“They’re kids, Rodney. They’re meant to be the best and brightest, but it feels like they picked them off the streets. At least street kids know they have to be careful. Best and brightest my ass.”

And in turn Rodney told John about Radek in Prague and Jeanie in Canada, and his projects in Area 51.

“Do you know I have a desk?” Rodney said miserably.

“I think I saw it, I have one too you know.”

“I sit at it for hours on end without anyone interrupting me.”

“Must be nice,” John commented.

“Are you kidding? It’s terrible! I get up and my back is so stiff that I had to sleep on the floor a couple of times just to straighten it again.”

Neither of them mentioned how much they wished they were back on Atlantis instead of under some mountain; they didn’t mention how they missed being part of what they had there. Rodney didn’t mention that he kept coming up with ways to increase power efficiency before remembering they don’t need them anymore. John didn’t mention how they kept him from the skies.

***

Rodney pushed John against the door and devoured his mouth, his hands on John’s shoulders holding him in place and setting the pace.

“I thought you said you weren’t easy,” John muttered against his lips, and he could feel a smug smirk pulling at his own lips.

“You know I’m such a fool for you,” Rodney said, “you got me wrapped around your finger, do you have to let it linger?” and John’s smile got bigger and more real.

“Wow, McKay, you’re serenading me now?”

“Shut up,” he said and pulled John to the bed.

John cupped his face in his hands and pulled him in for a kiss and Rodney’s hands fluttered down, unbuttoning shirts and trying to reach warm skin; John reached down and pushed Rodney’s shirt off, his fingers brushing Rodney’s shoulders.

Rodney gasped and pulled back a little.

“Your skin is burning,” John said.

“Sunburn,” Rodney explained, looking regretful.

“It’s ok,” John said, lowering him on the bed, getting him to lie down. “I’ve got an idea.” He pulled away from the bed and rummaged around in the darkness. When he came back he had an opaque bottle in his hands.

“You’re such a romantic,” Rodney said sarcastically, “stop halfway to get the lube, at least wait till I get my pants off.” And he started taking them off.

“It’s not lube,” he said, taking off his own pants and straddling Rodney, “it’s after-sun lotion.”

And even in the dark he saw Rodney’s eyes widen in realisation.

He squeezed some of the lotion into his hand and rubbed Rodney’s shoulders, upper arms and his chest, feeling the tight muscles there.

“Rodney,” he whispered, “relax.”

He felt Rodney take a deep breath underneath him and let it out slowly, his shoulders relaxing in the process. He kneaded them till he was satisfied and then he squeezed a small amount on his hand, picking some off with the fingers of his other hand. He dabbed it on to Rodney’s nose and spread it out to his cheeks.

Rodney’s eyes fluttered closed as his hands ran up John’s thighs to rest on his hips, his thumbs rubbing on the place where his legs met his torso, Rodney’s callused fingertips against his soft skin driving John just a little bit crazy. He bit his lip and pulled back reluctantly.

“Hey buddy,” he said, “I need you to turn around for me.”

Rodney was so pliant and relaxed by now that he did so without comment, resting his cheek on the pillow. John squeezed a line of lotion down Rodney’s spine, and then spirals on his shoulder blades, and as he rubbed it in, the spirals first, massaging his shoulders. Rodney gave a content sigh, but John loved this too. Having the time to run his hands all over Rodney, learning him again, for the first time; the soft skin, the dip and rise of muscle and bone, his broad shoulders, the narrower waist, his strong arms and deft fingers. He hands trailed down, palms cupping the perfectly shaped ass.

“You have a nice ass,” he commented.

“Mm,” Rodney agreed without opening his eyes, “I’ve been told.”

John’s wondering fingers trailed over a distension, raised skin, white and smooth: a scar. He had another one, on his waist, this one a faded brown. John avoided that one, afraid to touch it.

Instead he got the lotion and slathered more on to his fingers, trailed them along Rodney’s cleft. He stopped at the soft puckered skin and pushed in to his first knuckle with his index finger. The one eye of Rodney’s that John could see flew open, iris dilated, leaving only a thin blue ring around it.

“John?” Rodney said.

“Yes?”

“I don’t think I’m sunburnt there.”

“No,” John agreed, then hesitated. Did that mean…? What if…? He was about to pull out when Rodney made a move for him.

“Well?” he asked and pushed himself down so that John’s finger slipped in even further. John let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and started to move.

Before long he could slip in another finger; he made sure to spread the lotion around scissoring his fingers, widening him, but Rodney was already so relaxed that in time he could add a third finger. But Rodney couldn’t wait, he squirmed against him.

“I’m good like this, just, I need–” he let out an impatient breath.

John rested his free hand on the curve of Rodney’s ass. “I know, but I wanted to do this right, now that we have time.” He let out a soft huff, “all the time in the world.”

Nevertheless, he pulled out his hand and spread more of the lotion on his cock, pulling up Rodney’s hips so that he was on his knees, his head still on the pillow, an arm on the pillow above it.

John positioned himself then pushed in, slowly, slowly. He heard Rodney moan and reach for his dick but he batted the hand away and continued to push in to the tight heat till he was all the way in; he waited a few seconds for Rodney to adjust, then he reached for Rodney’s shaft, and gave it a long slow stroke. Rodney moaned again and John started moving, started a rhythm with his hands and hips.

“John,” Rodney gasped, out of breath, “please.” He knew he couldn’t keep this pace, so he bent forward, changing the angle, quickening his thrusts, dropping kisses on Rodney's shoulder, the crook of his neck, just below his ear.

“John,” Rodney said again, the only warning before he came in John’s hand, his whole body tensing, and John followed him over the edge.

When the bright clouds in his head cleared, he felt the bed shift and a moment later there was warm cloth on his sensitized skin. He tried to shift to help, but Rodney put his hand on John’s shoulder, stilling him.

“I’ve got it,” he whispered.

The only thing John could do was sigh contentedly. The last thing he felt before falling asleep was Rodney’s arm draping over him, pulling him close. 

***

The next morning they woke up, had a shower, and then breakfast. 

Then they collected all of their things, which had gotten everywhere somehow, and by 10 they were standing by the door, bags in hand, looking in at the room. The sheets were still all over the floor, and John knew all the towels were lying drenched on the bathroom floor; the view, however was still breathtaking, white gold sand and a blue ocean that seemed to go on forever.

“I don’t think I want to leave,” Rodney said quietly.

“Me either,” John admitted.

“So why don’t we stay?” Rodney asked, a spark of hopefulness in his voice.

“You know we can’t, we have jobs to get back to.”

“Jobs we both hate.”

“They’ll come looking for us.”

“I know,” Rodney gave in, too easily, “It’s just,” he waved his arm, taking in the room and the outside view.

“I know,” John said, taking his hand, “but I promise, when we get another chance we’ll come back, or maybe go somewhere else, better even.”

Rodney sagged and let himself be turned away from the room. “Ok.”

***

They drove all morning till it was time for lunch. They stopped for pizza in a place near Needles.

“Care to tell me why we’re in Arizona?” Rodney asked as they got out of the car.

“Nope,” John said, putting on his sunglasses.

“Because you know Area 51 is in Nevada, right? And Cheyenne is in Colorado?”

“I know.”

“So where are we going? Why are we stopping here? I’m sure you didn’t go the wrong way just to stop at Needles.”

“Nope,” John said, “we’re just stopping here for lunch and then we’re off again.”

“To where?”

John grinned. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Rodney.”

Rodney huffed and walked through the pizza place door that John was holding open for him.

John flirted shamelessly with the young and pretty waitress; Rodney got his revenge by sliding a socked foot up John’s leg and down his thigh, making John yelp and attract everyone’s attention.

Rodney gave him a smug look before smirking at the waitress, who took one look at both of them and escaped to the back, blushing furiously.

***

The drive after lunch was a lot more interesting.

“She was pretty,” Rodney said nonchalantly a few minutes after they were on the road again.

John didn’t answer but gave a grunt.

“What?” Rodney asked, “You’re allowed to stare but I’m not allowed to comment?”

“What I meant to say was you can’t put your toes on my crotch all through lunch and expect me to be very coherent later.”

“Someone had to show her that you were taken.”

“Oh my God,” John said, “possessive much?”

“You love it,” Rodney said moving his hand to John’s crotch, feeling John’s half hard dick prove his point.

Rodney stroked John with the palm of his hand and through the material.

John tried to shift away. “We can’t do this,” he said, “I’m driving.”

But Rodney was persistent. “Haven’t you thought about it though? Hot car, long road, driving fast, almost flying, and at the same time flying in a completely different sense?” he felt John's cock twitch under his hand and smiled smugly. “Thought so.”

“Rodney,” John tried to say warningly but it came out breathless and he wanted to close his eyes and feel Rodney's hand and the car’s inertia but he was driving and damn it if this wasn’t hot!

Rodney's hand was undoing his jeans and pulling out his cock stroking a few times, but he was already so hard.

He let out a small moan when Rodney’s hand left him to rest on his thigh, but his eyes widened, as Rodney gave him a smirk before encompassing John’s cock with his lips.

It took all his willpower to not floor the accelerator.

The angle wasn’t right for Rodney to take him very deep but he was doing that thing where he’d sink as far as he could then suck on him and slowly pull upwards, while his hand was clamped around the base, and Rodney would moan like John’s cock was the best Popsicle he’d ever tasted.

His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, one hand on the nape of Rodney’s neck. He was so close and he tried to buck against the seatbelt and Rodney shifted and there was more heat and more friction and more speed and he came into Rodney’s mouth.

The car slowed down as his orgasm faded and he came back to himself. He opened his eyes, unsure of when they had closed, to find they had stopped in the middle of the road in the hot afternoon sun. He reached for the keys and turned the car off as he caught his breath.

“Wow, Rodney,” he said turning to see Rodney’s smug look.

“Yeah, well,” he said, reaching over and tucking John back in and zipping him up again, before patting his thigh, “you owe me one.”

John laughed and started the car again.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said and Rodney smiled.

***

About an hour later, Rodney did the triple snap point he did when he finally connected the dots. “You’re taking me to the Grand Canyon!”

John grinned. “Yeah.”

He frowned. “How did you– wait,” he paused, “Oh my God!” he said, pointing at the radio. “That’s Britney Spears!”

“Um,” John shifted uncomfortably, “Technically it’s Travis.”

“But the song is a Britney Spears song! Why do you have Britney Spears in your Music collection?”

“I’m telling you, it’s Travis, they always do a live cover at their shows.”

“And you have it because…?”

“They make it sound cool?”

“And you were humming it, don’t think I didn’t hear you, I can’t believe how no one’s figured out you’re gay already.”

John reached over and, without taking his eyes of the road, thwapped Rodney on the back of the head.

***

They reached Tusayan at around 7. It was too late to do anything so they grabbed a quick bite to eat at another diner before finding a place to stay.

Well, it was meant to be quick, John thought as he watched Rodney list exactly how he wanted his steak, mentioning his citrus allergy several times. John has heard the speech before, but not for a while now. He must’ve not liked the way the waitress looked at him.

When he finished, the waitress gave him another look, a ‘you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me’ look. She hadn’t written anything on her little notebook yet.

“Listen, babe,” she said in a southern drawl, “I get that you don’t want any lemon on your food, but don’t go insultin’ my husband and tellin’ him how to cook.”

“What?” Rodney said, “I’m the one that’s going to eat it, aren’t I?”

She gave him yet another look (damn she could be expressive for someone who looked so rundown, John thought). This one was calculating. “Tell you what,” she said, “if the steak I bring you isn’t the best steak you have ever had, you and your friend here eat for free.”

Rodney considered it. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

She looked at John. “What about you, sugar?”

“I think I’ll have one of those steaks you’re talking about.”

“Any _special_ requirements?” she said, giving Rodney a pointed look.

“Nah,” John said, leaning back in his chair, “I’m easy.”

She gave him an amused grin and walked off.

“Jeez,” Rodney said once she was gone, “can’t you turn yourself off? She’s old enough to be your mother.”

“I can’t help it,” he said, “it’s so easy to be charming next to you.”

“Telling the waitress you’re easy is not charm, you’re just lucky you’re so cute, or I’d be mad.”

“Don’t you mean ruggedly handsome?”

Rodney seemed to think about it. “No-o I definitely mean cute.”

John kicked him from under the table and Rodney just grinned cheekily at him.

***

“I don’t see why you had to pay her,” Rodney was saying indignantly as they walked in to the lobby of the walk-in motel. It was small and slightly cramped, the front desk on one side and the attraction information on the other.

“Rodney,” he sighed, “It was the best steak I’ve tasted in a year and a half, at least, and that was the deal.”

Rodney glared at the old man behind the desk and narrowed his eyes at John.

John gave him the we’re-in-public-so-you-can’t-talk-about-it smirk and walked up to the counter.

“Hi,” he said, “I’d like to check in.”

“Then you are a lucky man, we have two rooms left,” the man said.

John tried not to tense up, but years of hiding made his stomach clench in anticipation. “We’ll only need the one.”

He saw the man hesitate for a fraction of a second before only grabbing one key.

“You can have this one,” he said, sliding it over, “it’s got a better view.”

John relaxed and smiled. Not this time, he thought. “Thanks,”

As he paid, he saw the man glance at Rodney, who had wandered over after looking at the brochures.

“Don’t let Betty get to you,” the man said to Rodney, “She does the same thing to most new tourists, bets them her husband’ll cook the best steak they ever tasted or they eat for free, and most people are either too honest or too nice to not pay.”

“Or too stupid,” Rodney said, glaring at John, who pretended to not see, “But it’s true, he sighed, “It was the best steak I’ve tasted in a while.”

John gave a sideways look at the wistfulness in Rodney’s voice, and then caught the old man looking at him. He smiled his make-nice-with-the-natives smile and took the key.

“Come on, Rodney,” he said, and they walked out in the cool night.

***

The room was nothing like the one in Santa Monica, but it was cozy. Rodney brushed past him as he looked at the room from the doorway, he toed of his shoes and sat down on the queen sized bed, bouncing and it seemed to pass the Rodney McKay Mattress Test because he lay back arms over head and stretched on the covers.

“So what do you have planned for tomorrow?” he asked John who was distracted by the pale strip of skin that was revealed when Rodney had stretched.

“What?”

“Plans? For tomorrow?” he asked again raising on an elbow.

“Oh,” he paused, “well, to tell the truth, this is as far as I’ve planned.”

“What?” Rodney asked disbelievingly.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know what we’re going to do tomorrow.”

Rodney rolled his eyes, then he got up, put his shoes back on and walked out of their room.

A few minutes later he came back in with a handful of brochures and a laptop bag. He set everything on the floor and spread the brochures around then he set up the laptop on his lap, legs in front of him, back resting against the bed.

“I thought we agreed no work,” John said, taking off his own shoes.

“This isn’t work,” Rodney said, plugging things in to other things, “it’s not even my computer, the guy at the front desk let me borrow it. This is planning.”

“I thought we could wing it,” John said sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t think so,” Rodney said, starting up the computer, “When do you have to be back?”

“I told Landry I’ll be back in 5 days,”

Rodney hmmm’ed and started tapping at the computer.

John got undressed and lay in the bed, listening to Rodney planning. He must’ve drifted off to sleep because the next thing he remembered was waking up in the dark, but he could see Rodney's face in the orange light streaming from outside. He was awake and running a finger from John’s bicep to his shoulder to his neck just under his ears, and back. It was a soft touch, and it hadn’t been what had woken him, it was the lack of waves crashing on artificial wall outside.

“What are you doing?” he asked, bending his elbow so as to not disrupt the restless fingers, and rubbed his eyes.

“Nothing,” Rodney said softly, not stopping, the thoughtful expression never leaving his face.

“Trying to memorise me or something?” he said, with a quirk to his lips, but he was only half joking.

“No,” Rodney said matter-of-factly, “I already know you by heart, but I’m compensating, for when we’re not together.”

John reached out with his own hand, this time the fingers did stop, and Rodney’s hand came to rest on John's shoulder, warm and soft. And he touched Rodney’s face, just a light brush with his fingertips, running down and scraping against the rough stubble.

They spent the night making up for lost time, touching and caressing and John came with Rodney inside him and over him, his arms around the broad shoulders, legs encircling Rodney, holding him close, not wanting to let go.

***

The next time he woke up it was full light outside and Rodney’s fingers were poking him painfully instead of gently brushing over his skin.

“What’sit?” he mumbled, snuggling deeper in to the pillows.

“You have to wake up now if we’re going to make our schedule,” Rodney said, far too awake.

“Schedule?” he murmured.

“Yes!” Rodney said, exasperated, “Now get up.” And with a last poke, John heard him move away, cluttering around the room.

He slowly opened his eyes again to see Rodney picking things up here and there.

John crawled out of the bed and lumbered to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave.

When he came out the curtains were open and Rodney was sitting on the bed, 2 cups of coffee from Wendy’s beside him and the laptop open on the bed beside him.

When he saw John come out, he started to close up.

“So, what are we going to do today?”

“Surprise,” Rodney said with an evil smile, echoing John’s words from earlier in the trip.

John pouted but didn’t say anything; he just picked up the car keys and passed them to Rodney.

Rodney looked at the keys in his hand and then at John in astonishment.

“You’re giving me the keys?”

“Sure.” John shrugged, like it was no big deal, “You’re in charge today, I wouldn’t know where to go.”

Rodney looked at the keys again and grinned. “Cool.”

***

It turns out that the first trip is back to the diner after being assured that Betty made the best pancakes in town by the man behind the counter while they were checking out.

Betty looked surprised when she saw them, but not after John told her why.

“Pete, still braggin’ about his sister’s cooking, well come in then, have a seat and breakfast is on the house, cause that old fool doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”

The pancakes were delicious, and they left the diner feeling full and sated.

But Rodney knew it was all coming to an end in a few short days. He could feel his heart beating faster and his fingers were starting to go numb. He closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to calm down. He was not going to break down now.

The car started on the second try and they were off. They drove for half an hour through green forest before reaching their destination, and when John saw the sign as they got out of the car, he grinned and looked at Rodney.

“Rodney!” he said in disbelief, and Rodney felt the chains around his heart unclenching, “Really?”

He nodded, smiling himself. “But someone else is going to do it; you’ll have to sit in the back with me.”

John shook his head, still grinning ear to ear, looking up at the helicopter. “As long as I’m there.” And he looked at Rodney again, like a kid with an early Christmas present and before Rodney could stop him, John dragged him forward and kissed him.

“You are the _best_!”

And now Rodney was grinning too, despite the mother who had covered her little boy’s eyes and was now looking at them disapprovingly, her teenage daughter, however was smirking at them behind her mother’s back.

The helicopter they were going to ride was meant to be the best. It had a list of all its good points and this was meant to be the best way to view the Grand Canyon in all its glory, not to mention that John got to fly again, albeit from the back seat, but it was as close as Rodney could get them.

They went inside to do all the conformation procedures, including the weigh in.

“You lied about your weight?” John asked incredulously.

“No! Well… it’s been a while since I stepped on a balance and we just had pancakes.”

“Right, blame it on the pancakes.” John rolled his eyes.

Rodney glared.

And then they were outside waiting for the rest of the group to arrive.

John talked with the pilot while they waited, about the helicopter mostly, fuel intake and efficiency, mechanics and handling and engines.

It wasn’t long before they were joined by three others, two guys and a girl, about college aged, obviously been friends since forever, because they joked and touched and ribbed each other with a strange ease.

After the initial ‘Welcome, this is your plane’ speech they got on and John let Rodney sit by the window.

It was spectacular; they flew over acres of forest land, the pilot pointing out the Painted Desert in the distance and the Desert View watch tower, but he could tell Rodney was hardly listening. He had one hand splayed on the window, his right hand clutching John’s left, his eyes wide.

Then the ground fell away and the canyon was exposed, nothing but open space for miles. Rodney's eyes widened further and his hand tightened around John’s.

The ‘copter turned and flew through open spaces and narrow ways hollowed out by time and nature, but all too soon, they were heading back, and John couldn’t help but feel disappointed. They were flying, in a helicopter and Rodney was beside him, just as elated as he was. He didn’t think it got better than this and he didn’t want it to end.

But a few minutes later they were on the ground, Rodney trying to get his balance back.

“That was so cool,” Rodney said wobbling a little, John put a hand on his elbow to steady him.

“That’s my line,” he said, but unable to stop grinning.

“You must be rubbing off on me, then.”

John smirked at him.

“Oh, shut up,” Rodney said, narrowing his eyes.

“I didn’t say anything,” he drawled, still smirking.

“I can hear you thinking it.” And John’s smirk got wider and turned in to the grin again. He couldn’t help it. It was cool.

***

They went in to the National Park after that, got up close and personal with the Grand Canyon. A man of indeterminable ethnicity talked them in to a scenic photo then overcharged them for it. Nevertheless, Rodney folded it and slipped it in to his pocket.

They walked down one side, taking in the sheer size of it all. Who knew it could look so spectacular, so beautiful, even Rodney didn’t have the words to describe it.

When they walked past a sign that proclaimed a sky walk was ‘coming soon’ John pointed it out. “That would be cool to see.”

Rodney gave him a shrewd look. “Tell you what,” he said, “When they finish it I’ll come to Colorado, and I’ll bring you back here, we’ll see this, we could ride the mules, and then maybe go east.”

“You’d do that?”

Rodney shrugged with his mouth. “Sure,” he said.

“But we’ll take my car.”

“What’s wrong with mine?”

“It’s a Nissan Bluebird. It’s the uncoolest car ever, they even stopped making them, they were that uncool.”

“So? Only guys who feel they need to compensate for something go for cool cars.”

“What are you trying to say?” John said, narrowing his eyes.

“Nothing, just that you’re probably insecure and you try to make up for it with an expensive car.” John tried to protest but Rodney continued over him, “Not that you have anything to worry about,” he slapped John’s ass, “I’m a very happy man.”

John looked like he didn’t know whether to pout or smile so Rodney, making sure no one was paying attention to them, pecked John on his undecided lips.

“Stop it, you’ll hurt yourself that way,” he said and John decided on a smile.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he said.

Rodney grinned smugly. “Yup.”

***

They were on their way to have lunch when they passed a gift shop and John dragged Rodney in.

There was a display of hats that caught Rodney’s eye, so he picked one shaped like a [cowboy hat](http://pics.livejournal.com/sara86/pic/0000gd90/g14), and put it on.

“What do you think?” he said to John, who had followed him to the stand, “Rodney McKay, intergalactic Cowboy.” He cocked his finger like a gun.

John laughed that dorky honking laugh that meant he was caught off guard and amused. “That’s awesome, you should get it.”

So he did, and he walked out with it on his head.

They had burgers and fries for lunch, and by 2 they were on their way again.

“I don’t see why you’re in such a rush,” John said from the passenger seat. “Nevada isn’t going to pick up and leave without us or anything.”

“We have to leave now to make it back in time for dinner.”

“And dinner has to be at a set time because?”

“No, see if we leave now we’ll make it to Nevada at 7, maybe 8, if we leave any later, we’ll have to stop on the way and by the time we actually get there it’ll be too late to do anything.”

“Are you saying that you scheduled time for sex?”

“No! Of course not,” he said a little shifty, “I’m just making sure that if anything happens, that there’s time for it.”

“Sure,” John said, rolling his eyes, not that he minded though, sex was good.

He reached for the CD collection, which was now so mixed up he wasn’t sure which were his CD’s and which were Rodney’s, but Rodney stopped him. “I’m the driver, so I pick the music.”

John pouted but handed the CDs to Rodney.

He picked out a red one and slid it in, pushing a few buttons till he got to a particular song.

“ _Hey Jude_ ,” Paul McCartney crooned from the speakers.

“The Beatles?” John asked surprised.

Rodney shrugged. “My piano teacher was a big fan of them; this was one of the first songs I learned to play that wasn’t a simple lullaby.”

John raised his eyebrows but Rodney left it at that, so he relaxed into his seat, resting his head on the cool window, the afternoon sun warming his face as Paul’s voice washed over him, telling Jude to let her in to his heart.

***

John dozed and Rodney let him. His anxiety from the morning was gone and he was content to listen to the Beatles and occasionally take a glance at John who looked so comfortable, and who wasn’t going anywhere.

He doesn’t think he had ever seen John like this. On Atlantis everybody was always tense, sure John was one of the more laid back, but it was always there, the underlying tension, ready to jump in to action when he was needed. 

To see him so relaxed was a whole new experience, but it came with a price. This John wasn’t as sure of himself, there were minor hesitations, times when he’d hold back, especially at the beginning. Rodney hoped he’d come around, realise he didn’t need to hold anything back from him. Rodney wasn’t going anywhere either.

Atlantis had changed them, he knew that, even Teyla and Ronon weren’t the same people they had met at the start.

He wondered if they’d change back, now that they’d lost Atlantis. He wondered how Atlantis had changed him, and how noticeable it is, and worst of all, if he’d change back now it’s gone.

***

They drove for six hours, with the occasional stop. When they crossed the state line John was wide awake again.

“Well what do you know?” he said, “Nevada is still here.”

“Oh ha ha.” Rodney replied, “We made good time though; I’m just about ready for dinner,”

“Yeah, me too,” John conceded.

“So there you go.”

John just grinned. “What are we having for dinner oh Master Planner?”

“I thought we could order pizza,” Rodney said, ignoring the jibe.

“Cool.”

Once they were at the apartment Rodney headed for the phone and waved his hand in the direction of the bedroom.

“Just put your stuff anywhere,” he told John.

He put both bags by the closet and came out again; Rodney was just putting the phone to his ear.

“I’m going to get your cat so your neighbour doesn’t think you abandoned it again.”

Rodney glared at him, about to reply when he got distracted by the pizza place on the other side of the phone line.

John left him to it and went to knock on the neighbour’s door. When she saw him her face broke into a flirty smile.

“Hi,” she said, leaning on the doorjamb, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m here to pick up Rodney’s cat,” he said, smiling back.

“Oh are you a friend of his?” she asked, “I didn’t know he had any friends.”

John gritted his teeth behind his smile. “Yes, he does, and I am.”

“Well do you want to come in for a drink? I’m sure Rodney won’t mind.”

“No thanks,” he said, knowing his smile had turned cold, “I’ll just pick up the cat be out of your way.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” she said, going inside to find the cat, hopefully.

When she came back, she was holding Tiro in one hand and his bowl in the other.

“Maybe next time you’re visiting Rodney you can stay with me,” she said, handing the cat over as well as the bowl.

“I really don’t think so,” he said, and walked away.

“Your neighbour’s a bitch,” he told Rodney once he was back inside. He let the cat down and put the bowl near the kitchen then headed back towards the living room.

“Why do you say that?” Rodney asked, looking away from the TV.

“She came on to me,” John said.

“That slutty whore,” Rodney said scandalised.

“Tell me about it,” John replied, “maybe we should bang against the wall and make loud sex noises, so she gets the idea, you know, since we have free time scheduled.”

Rodney blushed but he pushed John against the wall that was joining the two apartments.

“Or we could just have sex against the wall,” he said, moving to kiss John when there was a knock on the door.

Rodney sighed heavily and leaned his head against John’s bony shoulder.

“I never thought I’d be disappointed the pizza guy is so quick,” he said, voice muffled. He pushed off and went to get the door.

The pizza was delicious. They ate it while watching the newest episodes of Dr. Who, on the TV with ads and everything.

When the episode finished, John helped Rodney clean up and do the washing, and when Rodney had replaced the last plate in the cupboard John backed him against the counter.

“Where were we?” he asked Rodney, faking curiosity.

“Right about here,” Rodney replied and lowered John’s head and kissed him.

“You know,” he said, his fingers pushing under John’s t-shirt, “you still owe me that one.”

“Mmm,” John agreed, “and I have an idea but we’ll need the bed so sex against the wall will have to wait.”

“That’s ok,” Rodney said, “we’ll just have to be extra loud.” He slung a finger in John’s belt loop and dragged him to the bedroom.

Tiro was sleeping on the threshold, so Rodney gave him a nudge out and closed the door.

There was a disgruntled meow from the other side.

They quickly got rid of each other’s clothes and tumbled into bed.

“So what’s this idea of yours?” Rodney asked between kisses.

“Well,” John smirked at him, “I thought I’d start like this.” And he started to move down, mouthing Rodney’s chest, his nipples, his soft belly on the way and Rodney sighed. John’s mouth was nice.

“Then I could do this,” he continued and licked the underside of Rodney’s cock, and Rodney shivered underneath him. “Then I’d do this.” And he gave Rodney a feral look before taking his cock in his mouth. Rodney gasped and tried to thrust but John’s hands were on his hips, holding him still.

Up and down, up and down went John’s head and it was driving him crazy. Then John swallowed and Rodney gasped. He wanted to grab John’s head and fuck his mouth, but John was still new at this so he grabbed at the sheets instead and tried to thrust again, but John’s hold was fast. If only he’d go a little faster.

“John,” he moaned, unable to say more.

John knew how crazy it was driving him and the bastard chuckled and Rodney could feel the reverberations all through his body.

Then John shifted, moving up and swallowing around him again and Rodney threw his head against the pillow, arched his back and came.

When the haze cleared John was next to him, slowly stroking his own dick.

“Just give me a minute, I’ll—” he said, waving a hand vaguely at John’s lower section.

“No you won’t,” John said, “it’s all part of my plan.”

Rodney gave a huff of laughter, it was all he could manage; he couldn’t see how John was planning on making him come again, and he was a genius.

John pushed himself up on an elbow and opened Rodney’s bedside drawer, rummaging around till he found what he was looking for.

There was a snick of a bottle cap opening and Rodney looked up to see John slathering his fingers with lube. Then he pushed Rodney’s legs up so that his feet were flat on the bed.

“There’s no way it’ll work,” he told John, lifting up on his elbows to look at John.

“We’ll see,” was the only reply, then he pushed finger in, moving it around and crooked it. Rodney’s dick twitched, and John smiled smugly.

“That’s all you’re gonna get,” Rodney warned.

John made an indiscriminate sound.

“I’m serious; I’m not as young as–” he cut himself off with a gasp as John pushed another finger in.

“You gotta relax, Rodney,” John drawled, not taking his eyes off his busy fingers. He twisted them again and Rodney’s head fell back against the pillow.

“Oh God,” he said his cock already filling up, “this might actually work.”

“Mmhm,” John agreed, pushing in a third finger, and Rodney arched a little, trying to get more friction.

“Now, now Rodney,” John chastened, putting his free hand on the outside of Rodney’s thigh, “patience is a virtue.”

“John,” Rodney said, almost whining.

“Alright, alright,” he said and pulled his hand free so that he could slick his cock and position himself.

Then he was pushing in to tight heat and without waiting, pulled out and thrust again.

Rodney cried out in pleasure and arched his back again, trying to get the angle right but it wasn’t working.

“For crying out loud!” was the only warning John got before Rodney hooked a leg over his thigh and rolled them over, so that now John was flat on the bed.

“This is better,” Rodney said as he moved up and pushed down again. John tried to agree but all that came out was a moan. Rodney grinned and started moving in earnest.

He was close, so close but he needed to hold on just a little longer, because Rodney was impaling himself on John’s cock, again and again, his fingers digging into his shoulders, but that was alright because his own hands were holding too tight around Rodney's hips, he could see his thumbs pressing into the skin, Rodney’s cock between them, fully hard again.

“John,” Rodney gasped, eyes closed, sweat beading on his skin, “fuck John, touch me,”

He curled his fingers around Rodney’s dick and pumped it in counter point to Rodney’s thrusts. Three, four, five times and Rodney called out, his whole body tensing, his muscles clenching around John as he came, and John finally, finally allowed himself to climax.

“You’re trying to kill me,” Rodney said once they had caught their breath enough to talk, lying next to John, “that’s the only reason.”

John chuckled and half rolled over to kiss Rodney’s mouth slow and dirty. Then he got up and got something to get them cleaned up, before they fell asleep, John’s arm curled around Rodney.

***

He woke up some time in the middle of the night, alone in bed. He turned to see the digital clock. 2:17 am.

He frowned and got up. He did a round trip of the small apartment but it was empty. Then he saw the door that Rodney told him led to the roof. It was open, so he climbed the stairs in to the cool night air.

Rodney was lying on a beach chair set low, so that he was almost horizontal, blanket snuggled up to his chin.

As the door closed behind John, he looked up.

“Hey,” John said, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He walked closer till he was standing next to the chair.

“Nah, I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep,” Rodney said by way of explanation. He shifted over in his chair and pulled up the blanket, inviting him in. John only hesitated a moment before lying down next to him. 

“Hi,” Rodney said smiling at John, their faces only inches away.

“Hi,” he replied, smiling back indulgently, “What are you doing?”

“Stargazing,” Rodney said, a shadow of the other Rodney, the daylight Rodney, coming back in his ‘duh’ voice.

“Show me,” John asked, wanting to know what it is Rodney saw in the little glints of light.

Rodney’s eyes lighted up, and his smile was different than before, eager. He turned so that he was facing the sky again, and lifted his right hand, the one squished between them.

“See that over there, is the big dipper, you always start from there, on Earth anyway. In the olden times they used to use it to find the North Star, over there, and the North Star was part of another asterism, the little dipper.

“Asterism?”

“Mhmm, not an actual constellation, but part of one, in this case, the bears, it’s a common misconception, you can see over there, Draco, The Dragon, that’s a real constellation, see how its tail surrounds Ursa Minor? The little dipper, do you wanna hear something weird? In one of the myths Draco represents a dragon with a hundred heads, called, get this, Ladon.”

John laughed softly. “He always felt like a dragon.”

“And down there we could just make out the edge of Hercules and his club, on the other side, can you still find Ursa Major?”

“Yeah,” John said, “right there,” he held up his left hand and pointed, Rodney took his hand and pointed with him.

“And those faded stars that make a zigzag line, that’s the lynx.”

“It doesn’t look like a lynx,” John said frowning and Rodney gave him another one of those smiles, the ones that softened the frown lines on his forehead.

“No, it doesn’t, but when Hevelius named it, he said you needed the eyes of a lynx to see it.”

“I guess he couldn’t find a better name then zigzag.”

Rodney laughed quietly. “Maybe.”

“Tell me more,” John whispered in to his neck and he felt, more than saw, Rodney relax even more, getting in to the spirit of it.

“See on the right of the lynx? That’s the Gemini twins, Castor and Pollux, holding hands, and to the right of them–“

“Orion,” John grinned.

“Yeah, I knew you’d like that.”

“Show him to me?”

“I thought you knew him?”

John shook his head. “I can only ever find his belt; I don’t know how to link him together.”

“Ok,” Rodney said, taking John's hand again, curling his hand around John’s thin wrist. “You know his belt, that’s a start, that there, the three other stars closer together is his sword. Now if you connect those stars there,” he pointed out 4 stars that made a strange box around the belt and sword, “you make the torso, and if you go like that, that’s his arm, holding a, well, some say it’s a shield, some say it’s bow, sometimes even a lion’s skin in his right hand, and in the left he’s raising a club, see? They say that Artemis fell in love with him, so much so that she was distracted from her job, and in one version her brother tricked her in to killing Orion and she was so broken-hearted that she put his body in the stars.”

“That’s so sad.” John said, shifting slightly into Rodney’s warm body.

“Mm,” Rodney agreed, “When I was little my mom used to tell me stories,” he said after a while, “she’d tell me that Orion was the most noble in the sky and he and his dogs would protect the Gemini twins, because they were always getting into trouble. Hercules was always too good for that sort of thing, too proud.”

They were silent for a while after that, Rodney watching the stars, lost in thought and John watching Rodney.

“See that there?” Rodney suddenly said, raising his hand again, “That’s Pegasus, the flying horse. You can see its body and legs and its head and the wings.”

“Yeah?” John's voice was soft as he tore his eyes away from Rodney to look at the sky.

“In the square its body makes, just through there,” even Rodney's voice was softer, quieter, “that’s home,” he paused, “of course, you can’t see it with the naked eye, but it’s there.”

John nodded, following the pointing finger; he knew it was there, but it was good to have confirmation.

He borrowed his head in Rodney’s neck and snaked his arm over him so that he was half lying on top of Rodney. “Thanks,” he murmured in the warmth of Rodney's skin, and he dozed.

***

The next time he woke up, Rodney was still there, sleeping. The sky was grey, like it got just before dawn so he shook Rodney awake, whispering into his ear about going into bed, and they went downstairs again.

The last time John woke up that day was because his alarm went off. He quickly turned it off and slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake Rodney yet. But he just muttered in his sleep and turned on to his stomach.

He decided to have a shower, maybe have a cup of coffee then wake up Rodney to whispered goodbye before he went on his way. There was no sense in waking him up now, it was going to be hard enough to leave without having to stretch out the farewell.

He had a quick shower and he was about to tiptoe in to the bedroom when he heard a sizzling in the kitchen, followed by a sweet cinnamon smell, so he turned and went in to the kitchen instead.

Rodney was there, barefoot in a faded [blue-grey T-shirt](http://www.oneposter.com/products/Superman-Classic-Logo-Mens-T-Shirt_6753.html) and boxers, standing by the oven with a frying pan in hand.

“’Morning,” John said cautiously, to Rodney’s tense shoulders.

“Good morning,” he replied, half turning so that John can now see Superman written across his chest over a picture of none other than Superman himself, “you didn’t think you can leave without breakfast did you?”

“’Course not,” he lied and walked in to sit at the table, where he could now see a plate of what looked like pale-brown soggy bread. “What’re you making?” he asked curiously.

“French toast,” Rodney replied, “there’s a newspaper somewhere if you want.”

“Nah,” he said and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms up till he heard his shoulder pop. He got out plates, cutlery and syrup which proclaimed it was genuine Canadian maple syrup, before getting himself a cup of coffee from the batch Rodney had already made. Then he sat back down at the table, sipping his coffee. 

When Rodney finished he placed the toast in a plate in the middle of the table. John took one and poured syrup in a crisscross pattern, and then he took a bite. There was an explosion of taste in his mouth, sweet and so good, he closed his eyes in ecstasy and tried to not moan.

“How is it?” Rodney asked nervously.

John swallowed, opened his eyes and grinned. “Orgasmic.”

Rodney burst out laughing and just like that the tension between them was broken.

When they finished, they cleaned up and Rodney walked him to the door. Suddenly John had no words. He’d been planning on saying how he’ll call, how they’ll see each other again soon, how he’s going to miss him and now he’s blanked.

But Rodney saved him having to say anything.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, crossing his arms, so that the picture of Superman was covered, but not the word, “why did you take me with you?”

This took John by surprise.

“I mean,” Rodney continued, “It would’ve been easier, faster to go to California and the Grand Canyon without taking a detour to get here, faster to get back too.”

John bit his lip, but decided on the truth. “I missed the waves; I wanted to be close to home,” he shrugged, “I couldn’t do that without you.”

Rodney blushed but pushed on. “And the Grand Canyon?” he whispered.

John shrugged again, not looking Rodney in the eye. “You mentioned that you’ve never been there, on the tape, you said if you ever had the chance, you’d go see it, and I figured now that we have that chance, why not?”

He looked up when Rodney didn’t reply, but Rodney just threw his arms around John’s neck and hugged him.

“Thank you,” he whispered into John’s neck, a faint imitation of John’s own thank you last night. He patted Rodney on the back, a little awkwardly. He’d never been good at goodbyes or at hugs. Then Rodney let go and things went back to normal.

“Call me when you get there, ok?” he said, “I don’t care if it’s 3 in the morning, just let me know you got back ok.”

John nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he pulled Rodney’s face to his and kissed him, hard and needy, right there in the hallway. He’d always been better at actions anyway.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said when they broke apart.

“Ok,” Rodney said.

And John turned and walked away, not looking back.

***

He drove all day, only stopping when he had to. He made it home after midnight, though before 3 in the morning. He really wanted to sleep, but instead he picked up the phone and called Rodney.

“Hello?” The phone was answered too quickly, as if Rodney was sitting beside the phone.

“It’s me,” John whispered in his own dark apartment.

“John?” Rodney said. He’d obviously been sleeping. John could see him in his mind’s eye, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he said, “just wanted to let you know I’m back.”

“Good, good,” Rodney said, the words distorted as if he’d been stifling a yawn.

“Go back to sleep, ok?”

“Ok, g’night.”

“’night.”

And they hung up the phone.

He went to his room, took of his clothes and set the alarm, not bothering with the lights here either. He slipped in to bed and fell asleep, trying not to think of what tomorrow might bring.


End file.
